A weird thing happened today. After reading Jeff Goins post on writing about topics that we fear to deeply touch readers enough to shatter their frozen seas, I spent most of my morning looking for the perfect frozen sea breaking topic. I’ve got gazillions of topics of what I’d like to write about, but I’m bent on finding this perfect one.
I decided to take a break and go throw some balls for Sandy to fetch.
Our lab, Sandy, is insanely fast. I’m not bragging either. Seriously, why would I brag about something like this? When you throw her a stick, or a ball or a frisbee, she actually leaves “dog divots” when she takes off to fetch it. Yup, divots of grass and dirt right up into your lap.
When Sandy treks over to the neighbors (when we aren’t around and she hears voices over there because she’s such a people dog), our neighbor, Linda, likes to throw things for her and their two labs to race to. Linda confesses that she often has to fake Sandy out first and give the other dogs a head start to give them a chance.
Sandy still wins.
She is unbeatable in dog running.
“We should enter her in races!” my kids say.
She has this gift, this uncanny freakish speed talent. . . and nothing to do with it but chase balls and hunt in the fall.
Here’s the crazy thing. I really don’t think she gives a rip if she’s fast or not. She just loves to run. She doesn’t care if she’s winning contests or competing with any other dog. She is just so dang happy to be running.
And then. . . my message sang to me.
Like writing should be, Shari.
I was the frozen sea today. Stuck in finding perfect writing instead of just writing.
Julia Cameron writes,
“I love when good writing comes out – but mostly, I just love writing.”
And we shouldn’t do it for fame or be “be published” or to get lots of followers or likes. We should do it because it’s like breathing. It’s being true to our essence and it’s who we are.
Like Sandy has to run.